Sun Worship and Stone Altars
by Laconia
Summary: (Carciphona Modern AU) The moment Blackbird woke up she knew something completely unnecessary was going to happen. She just wished her gut feeling wasn't so accurate all the damn time.


A/N: This is a AU fanwork. Carciphona and its characters belong to Shilin Huang.

Honestly, the summary is more interesting than this shit

This is bland—a completely necessary evil. Seriously, the hell. The summary is better than the end product—I made it looked like it had potential— but I hope you enjoyed this delivery of disappointment!

I'll warn you upfront : the writing style is as bad as my grammar. Can't say I'm giving false advertisement

* * *

**Sun Worship and Stone Altars**

Summary: The moment Blackbird woke up she knew something completely unnecessary was going to happen. She just wished her gut feeling wasn't so accurate all the damn time.

* * *

Blackbird always took great pride in the fact that she had an absolute perfect record.

Marksmanship: never missed a shot. Mission success rate: as high as the sun itself. Collateral damage: nearly unheard of.

She trusted her instincts after all, and sometimes hard work could only be made pinnacle when coupled with raw natural talent, quick thinking, and a keen eye for spotting trouble. So the moment she saw one of her senior blood-brothers halfway asleep and casually waving to her in front of the public park water fountain she knew something was off.

Brother Thai-guuhr was a man known for many things, his peculiar habits and unorthodox methods being the most famous, but having the capability of waking up early in the morning (an hour after sunrise, no less) was not on the list. If anything, his tendency of getting into risky and completely outrageous adventures—such as the whole accidently hijacking a coastguard ship situation occurring last year – was more reliable than his circadian rhythm.

"Hey little bird." He sounded as enthusiastic as she felt, glancing over his aviators lackadaisically.

Blackbird gave out a short yawn, jabbing his ribs with her fist once she managed to swerve her scuffling to beeline past him. If she had given him a stronger punch, she would've been watching him topple into the water at the moment.

That would've defiantly brightened her morning. Considerably—by a large margin.

"Hey assface." Blackbird volleyed, not bothering to look back to see that he had fallen in step with her slow stroll until he playfully shoulder checked her. Rolling her eyes, she pushed back momentarily; more focused on attempting to enjoy finishing the half-eaten convent-store bought chocolate donut and scalding green tea—which was honestly far too bitter to have any redeemable qualities whatsoever.

Haphazardly she swept her cup around, motioning to the sky and not caring if she was spraying him. "What's goin' on over here?" As if the universe wanted to emphasize her point a particularly low flying news helicopter casted overhead, sirens blaring off in the distance.

"A lot of things, apparently." He nonchalantly replied, shrugging as he glimpsed at the rising billows of smoke.

They might've been talking about the weather, for all it seemed.

Aside from the fact that a majority of the downtown area seemed lit on fire and that the city's southeast district, which was always known for its usual nightlife bustle, was completely deserted; they just might've been.

(Though, for all she knew those details weren't for her immediate concern.)

"Thanks for the enlightenment." Blackbird grunted, taking a sharp turn towards the park exit; giving the sky a last lingering glimpse. The wind was beginning to pick up for the morning and the scent had already started to waft down south. "Good thing I manage to get on the train before all hell breaks loose with public transport. 'S not something I want to smell or hear on my day off. I already deal with that shit enough as it is, and it's not fun when I'm not the cause."

"Out of the blue if you ask me." He shrugged, taking great interest in flipping the cover of his cell phone. "Not really a pleasant way to wake up in the morning."

He looked like he was perpetually about to sneeze. Though, she probably looked the same as well.

"Tell me about it." Blackbird agreed. If anything, it was the phone call she received right before the initial explosions that accounted for her rude awakening. It was short, sweet, and to the point as much as it was vague.

The explosions, however—those were supposed to be an uncanny correlation.

There have been many times Blackbird had received untraceable phone calls right before or after a detonation (of all forms of explosives) occurred in the middle of intense crossfire; conveniently allowing her ample time to make a clear getaway. After all, it was an aspect of her lifestyle that was essential for survival. Over the years she learned never to ask too many questions, for more than one reason or another—just react.

It was easier to point-and-shoot than question if morality even existed; and coordinated diversions were hard to come by, especially ones so well timed.

However, as far as she knew, no one had any local missions which needed to be taken to such extremes. Such tactics were precarious and drew too much attention; usually being saved for overseas expeditions where guerilla warfare was already prevalent. And if there was any basis to go to such lengths, she would have caught wind of it one way or another. More or less she would've been right at the center of the escapade, if history tended to always repeat itself. (It always did)

Yes. Something wasn't quite right in the world, indeed.

"When is anything ever right in the world." He droned at her spoken thought; the intrusion of his voice nearly catching her off guard if she wasn't so focused at the overwhelming empty heaviness that was tickling the center of her chest. It was a feeling she only got whenever she was about to pull off an utterly extravagant and impossible feat, or when danger smiled in anticipation. And since she wasn't planning on careening through mercenary camp with a long bow anytime soon, that could only mean one thing—

"Somebody was mentioning the embassy." She trailed off, watching as a caravan of fire trucks rolled by.

"By the gods, that would mean it could be a possible terrorist attack." The sudden boisterous jeer and cheerful clap caused Blackbird to jump up, gawking at his abrupt change in demeanor.

"Wouldn't it be hilarious if we knew exactly when and where it was going to happen?"

Blackbird eyed him warily. Beyond his normal incognizant and daze appearance, Brother Thai-guur strongest suit was being deceptive to the point of infuriation. If anything, he was as omniscient as he was tightlipped. Years of experience taught her that his truths were as valid as his lies. Reality was a grey zone where only he knew the rules to; maneuvering in it like the back of his hand—always willing to leave behind those who couldn't catch up in the fog.

At that, Blackbird couldn't help but frown. "It is?" Speaking slowly, she gauged his cryptic smile turning brighter and bloodthirsty; raising an eyebrow at her.

"I have no idea!" He gushed, honestly looking utterly berserk.

"There are many things I can't guarantee, little bird." In a blink of an eye he shifted back into his insouciant drowsy trance, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets. Stopping in junction with her movements as she faced him, he was staring off into the sky before listlessly speaking once more. "But what if I said it wasn't. What then?"

A small smirk crept up, carved as a waxing moon. "We have nothing to gain, if both were true. However, playing devil's advocate is quite underrated."

"It's not our work. Way too sloppy, no coordination, centers too much attention and the damage radius is ridiculously huge." Blackbird scoffed, speaking low and barely managing to refrain from sneering. Grabbing a fistful of his sleeve, she roughly tugged at him to follow her lead; not caring if she was jostling.

"If they wanted to cover up an assassination, or at least an attempt; there're by far better measures to be taken. Measures that don't include shitty planning, and even shitter craftsmanship. Looks like nothing more than rebel army tactics aimed to kick someone's ego, or to make a statement. Though, if that's what they were aiming for— then fine. It's okay to have low standards. But if, on the off chance, we are behind it; I will personally smack the shit out of whoever orchestrated the whole thing."

At this point, Blackbird didn't even care if she was seething; no one was in public to bear witness to them anyways. "I'll show them what real terror is, and I assure you it will look absolutely fabulous; with half the cost, no less."

There was a beat of silence, the distant echoes of sirens faintly roaring as he sagely nodded at her.

"If it is what you say, then who would bother and make such a big statement?"

"Someone who doesn't understand the concept of overkill." Blackbird grumbled as they passed under the vine trellis overhang, turning onto the main street sidewalk.

"Well now. You seem like the definition of confidence." She sent him a bland expression.

Roughly she let go, walking further ahead. It was way too early to be dealing with him and this whole situation in general.

"So?"

"Having confidence doesn't always mean one is correct. Just ignorant to what any other possibilities can occur." Cagily, he leaned forward as a pack of joggers flew past them; stepping out of their way. "And we can't have that, now. Can we, little bird?"

"Sure—why not." Blackbird retorted coolly.

"Now then, where do we go from here?"

It was a question he always asked her. And every single time she knew he was talking of an infinite sea of possibilities along the coastlines of endless implications. A sly locution reminding her to acknowledge a future where danger was nothing more than an ally, and death had to be greeted as an old friend.

If she took it upon herself to actually seem curious, she doubted she would succeed—she didn't have the patience to feed ones ego. It would've added to his excitement. And while obedient to the cause, she was neither naive nor easily influenced; just captious as she was brazen. It was the facts that only he knew the circumstances of all their paths which tended to always grate her nerves. He held the blueprints to their fate, and the selfish little idiot was never one for sharing unless someone's life was at stake.

During a mission, Blackbird wasn't above masking as a lamb for the sake of appearance.

However, if she ever found herself lain across a sacrificial pedestal, the awakening of disillusionment was going to be as compassionate as a holding a copper rod in an open field during a lightning storm.

While Blackbird would gladly put her life on the line, she was far from a fool; the only knife that would be allowed at her throat was her own. As blind as her loyalty may seem, there was a difference between obeying for the sake of obligation and choosing to cooperate out of free will. It was a thin tightrope Blackbird managed to balance across as effortlessly as she could hit a bull's-eye half a kilometer away blindfolded. Her only concern was aiming a gun and trusting her balance to catch her before everything collapsed into itself.

Never once did Blackbird ever see the whole picture, and for what it's worth she was glad for that. As much as she loved setting the world on fire, she knew there was no turning back; no place for her to live in it with any sense of normalcy. It was a beautiful dream, but it was only that. One couldn't kill a working baker and enjoy their cake at the same time. She understood that notion as clearly as he knew which battlefield their march led to.

So instead of answering, Blackbird simply tripped him— watching him stagger to gain his balance with a neutral expression.

"There you go again." At this point she barely hid her smug enjoyment while watching him fold over, trying to catch his breath. It was quite the sight considering he didn't posses any grace whatsoever. To his credit, at least this time he didn't fall flat on his face. "You really like to ask questions, don't-cha. You're never gonna get anywhere if you don't come up with your own answers, Brother." Folding her hands behind her back, she spoke philosophic; gazing off into the distance in an overdramatic highbrow manner.

"Be observant, my boy. Make connections. Form your own opinion. Expand your mind!" Dramatically spanning her arms open into the horizon, as if to show him the secrets the world held, Blackbird seemed to hold onto the moment for what it was worth.

Which amounted to absolutely nothing, but at least she could pull it off convincingly.

"You're only as limited as you make yourself to be."

"That's cute. I wonder who you heard that from." He answered levelly.

"Apparently a hypocritical little shit." She smirked at him teasingly, elbowing him the moment he caught up to her.

"Well, I'd like to meet them. They sound quite charming." He matched her expression effortlessly.

"Trust me on this when I say you'll be disappointed." She gave a small wink, walking ahead to where their paths always departed; throwing a half-assed wave before punching the crosswalk button. Glancing briefly at her watch, she took a swing from her tea—instantly regretting it as she nearly spat it out. She already voluntarily put herself through enough suffering at it was; need not extend it any further than she had to. However, Blackbird was never one to admit defeat. Grimacing sourly while opening the lid, she swirled the lukewarm water around before downing it in one shot

Blackbird let out a jaded exhale, silence looming over as she stared intensely at the leftover teabag laying limp at the bottom.

"Why are you still here?" Her voice bluntly cutting through the stillness, flicking the bag at him before flipping the lid back on_;_only to huff as her blood-brother let out a jaunty hum blending in with the symphony of rushing ambulances.

Nearly latching onto her with his unnecessarily close hovering, it was only after her third glance checking for the time did he clear his throat. "You busy now?"

Eyeing him skeptically, she sighed. "Well, the old man specifically called me at the ass-crack of dawn to haul over. So—I guess I am?" She began trailing off; deciding to search through her phone to see if she missed any new messages. Quite frankly, the only thing that was guaranteed the moment she answered the call was that she was going to be kissing whatever was left of her small vacation time goodbye.

Her gaze grew sharper as she catches him rocking flippantly back on forth on his heels. "What's it to you?"

He shrugged once more, and Blackbird took it upon herself to withstand the overwhelming urge of throwing something at him. Something that was particularly heavy and had sharp edges. At least then he might actually respond with something that had meaning behind it—like a cry for mercy.

The moment the walk signal flashes, Blackbird stormed ahead. "I dunno if he wants me to pull through to finish with the Raschecura hit and collect the payment. But then again h—"

"Well there's been a change in plans." He says after a beat, effectively cutting her off. And before she can react, he has her arm looped around in a tight grip; effortlessly dragging her along as they veer. They charge down the sidewalk with renewed purpose.

"Alright?" She blinks away, waiting for him to continue.

"What the hell is that?"

Too boggled at the sharp change in topic she almost forgets she needed to answer. Then again, it was wiser to never argue with a fool in the first place; she only had so much sanity left in her that she was willing to lose. Instead, she shuts her gaping mouth and deadpans.

"That." He motions to her side with his free hand.

"Breakfast." She responds slowly; lifting up the empty donut wrapper and cup, unsure what to make of them.

Clicking his teeth, he patted her arm and slips away. Before she can protest, he's already jogging up ahead and waving.

"You open?" She hears him calling out to one of the local street vendors setting up for the morning rush before letting out a groan.

It definitely was going to be a long day.

* * *

Taking her time journeying over to them, it occurs somewhere along the way between her confusion and the street lamp to give up trying to make sense of everything. The ability to adapt to unexpected variables was as essential as initial forethought. After all, a master tactician had to be quick on their feet and manipulate each possible outcome into their strategic favor.

Going with the flow, Blackbird hovers around his elbow. Tediously watching their engaged conversation, primarily consisting of head nodding and a lot of pointing, she only narrows her glare the moment he looks back at her with imperious judgment. It would've been too much of a hassle to actually follow along with his train of thought; especially considering that he looks so disappointed in her. Not to mention the unfounded pity. At this point, she didn't even bothering to stop him as he snatches the items in pure digest—chucking them into a trash bin with great urgency as if he was slapping away a grenade about to explode.

"I'm buying you some actual food to eat." He offhandedly offers, practically wagging a scolding finger at her.

"Is that so?" At that, she couldn't help but sound impressed. "And what do I owe this honor to?"

"Trust me; you're going to need it." Collecting the change, he swings around and beckons her to follow him towards the lamppost only a stone's throw away. "This also gives me enough time to brief you." He continues bluntly and feigns innocence at the outrageous expression she was no doubt giving him.

"Well, why didn't you start off with that in the first place; and here you got me thinking you were always such bundle of surprises so early in the morning. You know, it's usually a custom for us to not waste time. "

If she didn't know any better, she would've thought he enjoyed annoying people as much as she did.

"What can I say. I'm a man who loves suspense and procrastination." He offers her a sweet smile and a spirited waft, which she couldn't help but scoff at.

If anything, he was strange and more of a hassle than what it was worth.

By all means, he was probably excellent at what he did. Whatever it is he actually does.

In reality, Blackbird still had no clue what the full extent of his actual job was in the first place. If anything, he spent most of his effort sneaking from any sort of responsibility and always finding a way to drag someone along with him. In most cases where the covenant of the blood may be thicker than water of the womb—especially considering the fact that a large handful of them didn't have any living relatives—he, by far, was pushing it.

Though in a bizarre way, she cared for him.

After all, he taught her the ropes when she was wide-eyed and still struggling towards figuring out how to stay alive long enough to learn from her mistakes. He had her back every step of the way, holding her hand when things took a turn for the worse. If it wasn't for that fact she would've casted over him at any chance.

Brother Thai-guur was a slacker, without a doubt. But he also was a man of his word whose loyalty knew no bounds.

He was also a man who was downright afraid of his wife—though, from the few times Blackbird met her, she could see why. She was absolutely terrifying, but bless her soul for what she had to endure. The conniving pain in the ass probably deserved it anyways—especially considering he was making a great show of taking his sweet time to continue.

There were just some hopeless people in life who never understood the concept of time, or social cues. Or rather: chose not to acknowledge them.

"Do you know of the Visrin family?" He asked, trying to avoid her nudging foot tapping raw at his shin.

Voicelessly mouthing the question, she answers by slapping her face as she rubbed at her temple. Clearly this day woke her up with the sole goal of keeping her in the dark as long as it could. At this rate, she was going to starting having a migraine before any getting answers. And she never experienced one before, so at least she would be learning something new.

Mistaking her sulking annoyance for brainstorming, he coaxed her gently. "You've heard the name before, I assure of it." Leaning causally against the post he held an intense unreadable expression.

Peeking through her fingers, she let out heavy breath and ran them along her hair. "Yeah, isn't the ambassador-at-large that one Visrin lady…" Slumping back, she found herself she staring off at the sun—searching (pleading) for the strength to refrain from knocking him out in broad daylight.

"You know— the one who's been manhandling the world for years." She added in afterthought, twirling her hand in a vague gesture; as if expecting the tyrant would conjure out of thing air just for clarification's sake.

"Well, the U-N-M and I-G-Os for the past two decades, to be more specifics."

"Was that suppose to mean something to me?" Blackbird flicked her finger at his forehead along with her dry response, crossing her arms. Leaning next to him, and watching a few passersby walking their dogs, he deftly props his forearm on her shoulder.

"It's technically not the world—when it's primarily composed of whinny politicians thinking too big of themselves."

Blackbird couldn't help but hum in agreement.

It was true. The world of politics practically walked on eggshells when the name Auresque was spoken— the plenipotentiary's mere presence threatening for a war, or peace negotiation at any moment. She glorified humiliation and crushing any opposition as if it was a national sport. Though surprisingly enough, especially given her callous demeanor and tendency to make untactful statements, Auresque Visrin did have high ratings amongst the public.

Her public relations agent was probably a saint in disguise.

"However, that's not the only place you've heard the name. You've been with us along enough to recognize its significance." He pauses, seeing the gears suddenly shifting and turning in her head.

As her expression dawns sudden realization, Blackbird felt herself stiffening considerably; looking between him and the couple indulged in preparing their food. She raises her eyebrows with enough passion and abruptness to the point they may have flown off her forehead. If there was any time to switch between languages, now would definitely be it. Especially considering the fact that they didn't look to be from anywhere near the country they both grew up in.

As if to read her mind he shakes his head, casting a side-glance. "New refugees—fresh from the recent wave." He beckons their gaze back and eased forth. "Their langua franca is shotty at best."

Cautiously, eyes never leaving their locked position, she mumbled under her breath; distinctly glad for once that they were so close together. One could never be too vigilant, after all. Paranoia was a survival skill when it came to many things. While the street may have been desolate beyond recognition, the trees still had ears if not checked.

"Yeah, they're one of the outer branches. They help with funding, or some shit along those lines." On more than one occasion, Blackbird remembered Brother Singh-a mentioning something in passing of the Visrin family having fairly comfortable (if not intimate) ties at liberty within the scope of the Family. Though, frankly, she blanked herself out whenever the seniors gossiped over certain topics. She had better things to accomplish.

Like rearranging or polishing her sword collection—

"You're right and wrong." He proudly nodded in approval, patting her head and ignoring the sardonic look he got in response. "The thing about it is: they are 'the branch'—or the one that really matters, anyways."

The old vendor waved over to them, spreading his hand out into thumbs up.

Pushing off, Blackbird wandered off back to the cross walk. Sauntering his way towards her, he shouted a thank you over his shoulder before extravagantly presenting the plastic bowel and utensils to her with a deep bow. Graciously, she accepted the presentation without kneeing him in the face—something she was quite proud of, actually.

From the smell of it, it really was worth the wait; though if she managed to get food poisoning at least she was going to enjoy every moment of it. As she mixed through the large pile of noodles, thickened with herbs, bean sprouts, and beef, she found herself being the one scrambling after him as he crossed the street.

"So, what kind of tree are we talking about here." She asked before drinking the broth.

With anyone else she would've been admonished for eating while walking, but she was legally considered an adult, and stomachache be damned she was going to enjoy her food to whatever he was rattling on about.

"I'll save the history lesson for another time. Thing is—our Family has been tied to the Visrins for several centuries; to the point one can't exist without the other. Our alliance with them may seem distant at times, but it's as essential as." Playing around with a few words along his tongue, he gave out a quirky smile, "you know, the ecosystem and stuff."

He seemed quite pleased at his wit, more so than Blackbird would like to admit.

Chewing eagerly, it took five blocks and a near empty bowl later to finally break the silence in-between bites.

"With all do respect, but this has to be of my concern as to why?"

The sensation tugging at her chest seemed to expand every moment she took the information in; the map getting too tortuous for her to make any connections. And while Blackbird was known for improvising, there was a huge difference between analyzing risk with every possible outcome and charging into a room blindfolded. His words held more weight now more than ever, and the reason as to why didn't settle with her very well.

"Early on today there was an attempt on one Miss Veloce Pierrhus." His words were quiet and quick as his steps, barely giving her enough to time to figure out if the name had any significance. "And the thing about it is, Miss Pierrhus just so happens to the daughter of our dear ambassador-at-large."

Perking up, Blackbird eyes widened as she ran through his words once more—the wind effectively being knocked out of her. She would've offered him a look of the pure shock if she wasn't too busy with choking at the moment. Before she knew it, he made a quick dive to swerve into one of the store front entrances; leaving to her to bask in her own glory.

"Wait—" Sputtering, she cringed and roughly pounded on her chest; only managing to wheeze out, "she has a daughter?"

"You're not the only one." Was his brusque response, looking at her dead straight in the eyes as he hastily flung open the door. Sending a brief greeting to the people inside he swiftly took out a gym bag that was stashed beside the entrance; blindly throwing it at her the moment he stepped back out. More focused on the concept of breathing, Blackbird narrowly missed the one-armed catch. Miscalculating its surprising heaviness, she staggered shouldering it without a single word. It was just—

She really liked breathing—

Enjoyed it, actually—

It was kind of important after all. Way more important than her revelation. Thankfully he realized her priorities at hand and allowed enough time for the storm to pass before resuming their trek.

"Kind of a vital detail, heh?"

"You think!" She's halfway between a mix of a screech and a hiss, eyeing him in complete distain. He definitely was doing this on purpose, if his shit-eating grin was any indication.

"Apparently a few people caught drift and thought so as well. Hence why we had such a rude awakening." He gestures dismissively around to the chaos. "She's safe. We got her out just in time before anything could happen. Though as you can see, we didn't know the full extent of what they planned on doing—our little informant is kind of out of commission for the time being."

She winced at the thought.

"Gods… just how old **_is_** this daughter?"

"Seventeen."

"Shit!" Blackbird gave a final heave, trying to suppress the distinct feeling of laughter bubbling up. "She's too young to have gotten any enemies."

"Please." He snorted, "You were singlehandedly overthrowing regimes at that age."

"Well yeah, but I'm smart enough to at least manage never getting any enemies in the process. " Blackbird always made sure to cover her tracks up—to leave behind no liabilities or witnesses. Though, sometimes she eased up to get a sportive challenge. "It's kinda hard to make some when you have to—you know— kill off everyone."

"How could I forget!" He laughs, a lot louder than he should have; causing a few questioning stares to flow their way.

Gently nudging her as if they were sharing an inside joke, he brandishes his phone in front of them for emphasis. "I had just gotten news that our little friends fell for our decoy. Fuckers shot right through it. So we gave them the same honor. Doubted they would've given up anything if we managed to question them."

Blackbird gave a long whistle and shook her head in chagrin. "It would've been fun, though."

"Without a doubt." He abruptly slams a fist onto an open palm, as if he realized life's true meaning. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves though. While she may be young that doesn't necessarily mean that she's not dangerous."

"People could be paranoid. Though there's a higher chance that they're using her as leverage against her mother, Auresque." Blackbird surmised, nodding along. "They just don't know how stupid of a move they just made. But then again, maybe they do."

"Most likely not." He hummed, jiggling the phone at her once more before smashing it on the edge of an open dumpster; carelessly tossing it inside. "They just don't how deep the water is"

A name so big, and with a personality so confronting, never went without bristling the wrong people. Power oftentimes coupled envy.

It was quite common for revenge plots to be targeted amongst close relatives; especially when they were off alone in the world of adulthood. After all, the apple never fell far from the tree, and trouble always followed its scent; like sharks attracted to blood. Kin either followed pursuit in being an absolute asshole, or innocent to the ancestor's sins.

Either way, Blackbird often found that the world of the elite is as unforgiving as her sympathy. And people always told her that she needed work on expressing her emotions.

Shooting things often helped.

"Now then, little bird." Pocketing his hands, he asks, "Where do we go from here?"

"Well, aren't you walking along scorched earth." She replied with a wry smile, matching his distracted tone; swaying side to side blithely.

"You're a smart kid, you should've probably figured out why you were called into this."

"In order to outthink an assassin, you hire a better one." Blackbird pointedly answered. She couldn't fathom any other reason.

"Well that may be true," he begins before sympathetically patting her shoulder, "but you're gonna be the body guard."

She nearly trips.

"The what!" The sound her voice makes barely registers to human ears.

* * *

It takes a moment for the initial shock to settle, replay itself, and surge forth before she drags him right to her face. In response, he leads them away from the middle of the street and settles against a wall before she could slam him into it any more roughly than she already was. "The best we got. To outthink the best they got." He offers helpfully.

If he was trying to flatter her, it clearly wasn't working.

A hurricane of emotions —all promising of pain—flooded across her face with the intensity of an impressionist painting. It was beautiful as it was horrifying. If anything, she looked like she's about to explode. He knew full well the destruction she was capable of doing when she was in a good mood. And while he was courageous, he didn't want to be the first person to ever bear witness to such an experience. He would graciously give that honor to someone else.

By all means, Blackbird was not a rash person. It was just no one knew how long her fuse was—nor dared to find out. If anything she had a seemingly non-existent temper in most cases. When the storm did hit, her anger amounted to silence and meticulous plotting; allowing her to be clear-headed and unpredictable. He had been reminded many times, and thankful, that a high-caliber person with such a skewed moral compass was fighting on his side.

Pressing further back into the brick, and choosing his words carefully, he silently hoped that ignoring his survival instinct was going to pay off.

"This is quite an honor, you know."He continues, unperturbed by the outraged glare she shot his way.

_"_I beg your pardon, my dearest Elder Brother, but when did you start spewing bullshit!" She fumes, more furious than they could both possible hope for. Though, in his honest opinion, she was handling the news better than he would've thought. Suddenly he finds himself in an ongoing battle being able to breathe from the moment she starts stomping away before rushing back at him even more livid than before.

"I'm a professional killer," she hissed fiercely under her breath, jabbing at him harder with every word for emphasis, "not a babysitter!"

This was a demotion. She was sure of it. If this was punishment for little mishap with the break room television–which she may or may not have accidently stabbed at with a spear when she was lacquering it-she made sure no one knew or found out about the incident.

She even causally bribed (threatened) the janitor—and he wasn't even in the premises at the time.

"Aw, come'on little Blackbird. It's always good to diversify one's resume."

"You're not really helping." She snaps back, slapping him hard across the shoulder.

At that he sheepishly shrugs, his grin never once wavering. "From what I gather you were the top choice of everyone for this mission. There's a high level of trust that goes with that position, you know. Hell, even Sister Orang-hutang highly recommended you—and she doesn't like anyone period."

It was only then, in that exact moment, did Blackbird slacken just the slightest; signaling a temporary ceasefire. Cautiously untangling her fingers from his jacket—he offers a gentle expression as if trying to coax out a cornered animal.

"If it makes you feel better you get to travel. And shoot stuff along the way." Encouragingly he presses further—leading them down the sidewalk in a loose half-hug before her fighting spirit revived itself. They only had a block to go, but the detour into uncertainty wasn't making the destination any more satisfying.

"I'm pretty sure that's mandatory." She sighed downcast, dishearteningly running a hand though her ponytail. It was a frequent qualification of her job, after all. She was rarely in one place for more than a month; going through ammunition as fast as her appetite. With a heavy groan Blackbird slumped forwards in defeat; her whole body deflating with her hesitancy.

"Do I at least get to track people down?" She asked meekly, in a tone that he found oddly familiar—sounding like when she was a child asking for an apology after the elders scolded her.

At that, he couldn't help but fondly ruffle her hair, "You can still torture people for information. Just make sure it's more humane than usual."

"N-no promises." Blackbird despondently replied as he patted her back in condolence.

That the best they both were going to get.

"There is a letter inside giving you more information," he tugs at the bag strap slung across her, swaying playfully, "which I'm pretty sure you will like. It also details the next steps if you so choose to accept."

"So— I ask again." Ruffling her hair one last time, he slips away as they approached a small storefront. Walking backwards, portraying the ideal picture of mellow, his crooked grin brightens. "Where do we go from here?"

"See that—" Tossing the empty food bowl blindly over her shoulder, Blackbird didn't even bother double-checking or hiding her smirk as he watched it sail across the street and neatly landing into a trash can.

"That's my caution."

Self-satisfaction radiates off her once he lets out a howling laugh as she adds a final, "that's how I get stuff done."

Nodding a morning greeting to the owner's wife, an elderly woman who was sweeping at the entrance and swatted both their behinds with the broom once they passed, they headed inside; wandering a familiar route through the spacious and tranquil atmosphere.

The cashier, who was sprawled out and seemingly asleep on the counter, gave them a sloppy languished wave; not bother to straighten up. Exchanging brief pleasantries, the man inched a bowl of fruit towards them—Blackbird being the only one to shifting through and stashing them into her bag. Without another word they slipped through the back exit, meandering down the labyrinth of pathways formed by connected shops, chain-linked fences, parked cars, and apartment complexes; Blackbird carelessly tossing an uneaten fruit core into every other dumpster in tune with the song he was currently whistling.

"Good to see you aren't turning into a litterbug." He prods at her side.

"Are you kidding me." Blackbird scoffs, trying her best to look completely appalled. "I have an outstanding sense of ethics." In some regards—

"You ready?" They're down the final turn when he halfway glanced back, reaching forwards; fist hovering in front of the door.

"Would it matter if I wasn't?" He doesn't reply, instead favoring giving out a distinctive rhythmic knock and thrusting open the heavy door as it unlocks—all the occupants in the small, cluttered room turning their heads in synchronization.

It is only when the first sight Blackbird finds herself graced with is a distinct image of a spiteful goddess sitting regally, encompassed among the familiar faces of her elders and seniors, she notices two things. The younger girl had the most striking emerald eyes. And if it wasn't for the elegant look of pure indignant rage, hidden amongst a stoic façade, Blackbird would've thought of her to be the most beautiful person she ever saw.

Then again…

If anything, it made the younger girl even more exciting. After all—

Blackbird smiles inwardly_, real gods are worshipped in blood._

* * *

Endnote:

This shit kept jumping around and I decided it deserved is own little corner to fester in. Shit be all verbose and stuff—it's quite sickening.

A necessary evil… a boring evil… but necessary nonetheless

The main cast (and characters introduced so far in Carciphona) will appear later—this ain't some OC-fest going on. Some characters will play a more pivotal role, others will help expand the scope of the world. Their relations show how much they had shaped the characters thus far, and vise verse.

Much of the OC population will only have a brief appearance for the sake of pushing the story where it needs to go. (( Here's a chart [] to keep track and differentiate these little suckers))


End file.
